


Better Off

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Transformers: Rescue Bots
Genre: Abandonment, Angst and Feels, Arguing, Bitterness, Bittersweet Ending, Break Up, Explanations, F/M, Heartbreak, Kissing, Loneliness, Mid-Canon, Missing Scene, Old Friends, Partnership, Rare Pairings, Reunions, Unresolved Romantic Tension, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9459404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: "Did you ever find another partner or did you decide to stick to your new hit-or-miss motto: I'm better off alone?"In the here and now, there are two Rescue Bots who greatly prefer working on their own. Back then, there were two Rescue Bots who could rarely be separated.





	

“Well…I must say I wasn’t expectin’ to see _you_ here.”

Quickshadow could say that she hadn't expected to see him here either. If she had known he would be here, she might have tried to find another assignment. _Anything to prevent another ugly spat like the one we had last time we saw each other…_

The only reason they had happened upon each other was because she had transformed into her hovercraft form and had entered the water on her way back to the Mainland. High Tide had assumed she was a sinking boater from Griffin Rock and had scooped her up in his Ultra Mode. As soon as she was settled on his ship and he had emerged to check on the assumed pilots, they had been in for a rather uncomfortable reunion.

“So you Special Ops. bots go by aliases,” he remarked unreadably. “What’re you called now? I’ve heard of a Bootlatch, a Spincycle, and a Stylus who sounded like you.” High Tide paused, scoffed lightly and concluded, “Whatever you’re goin’ by, I’m still callin’ you Blink.”

Quickshadow barely glanced up at the mech nearby, but she couldn’t deny that her spark had ached _just_ a little upon hearing her old nickname. She had been known as Nightflare the last time she had heard it, but High Tide seemed to have a knack for giving odd nicknames. (She still cringed upon thinking of the first time he referred to the Prime as “Oppy” in her presence.) As soon as he had seen her biolights sputter during a hard bout of Academy training, he had dubbed her “Blink” and refused to call her anything else.

When they had first met, she had considered it intolerable. Now, it did nothing but remind her of everything that had followed. They had both been young, still spitfires just warming up under the pressure of being rescue workers.

 

_“Oh, now what d’you want, Blink?! You gonna tell me I’m an ‘addled, rust-touched first-frame runt, incapable of saving myself, much less anyone else’? I think I heard you the first time!” High Tide growled, optics burning holes into Nightflare’s._

_“No, I’m here to apologize,” she informed him, uncomfortable and a bit sheepish. “Apparently I was rude and interruptive and apparently I overstepped my boundaries.”_

_When he neglected to answer, she set her jaw. “Look, I know how I come across; I’m passionate about the line of work we hope to enter and it’s work that has a ticking clock, as lives are at stake, and that makes me…impatient to get what I need, which often results in my having to apologize.” She grimaced, forcing herself to go on in the face of his cold, set glower. “Very well, I’ll admit that I was also…wrong about the proper procedure in the case of a Rust Sea rescue. I suppose we both should have remembered that I’m hoping to become a Special Ops. agent, not a sea rescuer.”_

_Finally his optics darted away as he processed the words. That seemed to be some progress, however small, and per her training, she tried to watch his face closely for whatever he might be thinking. It was around that time that she tried to mentally smack herself for musing on what defined features he had, but it was too late to stop her mouth._

_“Perhaps you can share the secrets of sea rescues so I can be better prepared to avoid an argument,” she commented._

_“What’s that supposed to mean?”_

_“Shall we say…no more secrets? I share with you, you share with me—so long as we’re sure to keep our voices low, even if we’re a little overcharged.”_

_High Tide stuttered a little at that. “Overcharged? Blink, I thought you were apologizin’ here and now I’m…not quite sure what you’re askin’ me.”_

_Pleased that she had coaxed him into talking at last, Nightflare gave him a cheeky smirk. “What do you think, dear? I want to know if you’d care for an evening cube with me.”_

_High Tide blinked several times; much to Nightflare’s amusement, he had just been given the rare opportunity to be flustered. “Ah…when?”_

_She laughed, hoping she didn’t sound too nervy as she waved a hand. “When else? In the evening, of course…unless you believe I’m overstepping boundaries again.”_

_“Well, you’ve already done that by tellin’ me how to do my job. What if I say no? You gonna hold it against me?”_

_“Well, I will be mildly insulted.”_

_“…And if I say yes?”_

_“Then I might tease you with it from time to time,” she concluded gently, raising her eyebrows. “Are you willing to dare the known unknown?”_

_“Slagged if I do, fragged if I don’t,” he grumbled. “Well, I guess being slagged is a step up. Fine. An energon cube tonight, but I’m only drinkin’ medium-grade. You probably should too, if you wanna remember any of the rescue tips I’ll be tellin’ you.”_

 

“Did you hear me?” the seamech asked gruffly, impatiently.

“Of course I did, High Tide, but I’m a bit preoccupied while I’m cycling seawater out of my systems,” Quickshadow replied, trying to sound unconcerned and flexing her wrist for viable proof of her words. Sure enough, a thin stream of water began falling as her armor shifted, but she wasn’t focused on it. It felt too surreal to be saying his name again. In her peripheral vision, she could see him shift slightly toward the sound of it before registering the other words and folding his arms in a huff.

“Well, then, if you’re not interested in answerin’ that, let me ask you somethin’ else: did you ever find another partner, Blink? Or did you decide to stick to your hit-or-miss motto: ‘I’m better off alone?’”

Quickshadow stilled, finally looking up at him. His green optics were narrowed and dark—dare she believe there was some uncertainty behind the expectancy? Straightening, rotating her wrists to be sure they didn’t hold any more sea salt, she squared her shoulders.

“As it turns out, my ‘motto’ has done me a great deal of good,” she stated confidently, tilting her chin higher than might be respectful in the face of a drill instructor. That wasn’t what he was to her. “And what about you? Living out here, guarding the little humans on the island without so much as seeing them…don’t you ever get mopey about it? From what I’m seeing, you have a knack for that now.”

“I have Servo,” High Tide snarled.

“The mechanimal who now serves with the _other_ Bots, you mean?” That seemed to catch him slightly off guard, so she took advantage of it, filling his silence. “I’m not sure you have any right to be asking if I found another partner when you clearly haven’t.”

“Right?” he echoed bitterly. “Right, huh? Well, pardon me for wonderin’ if you’ve backstabbed any other unfortunate mechs the way you backstabbed me.”

“I didn’t—!” she gasped, faltering half a step back before bolstering herself. “No, no, that isn’t what happened. I don’t know what you mistook for backstabbing, love, but—”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that again. You didn’t mean it, did you? You never did!”

“Perhaps not,” she agreed crisply. “But I _thought_ I did and that was enough for me to keep saying it—after you told me you felt the same, after we graduated, after we were threatened with reassignment, even after you were promoted, but I could never maintain a relationship. You knew that.”

“No, I didn’t. You kept up appearances, kept reelin’ me in, and I was stupid enough to let you. _That_ was when you told me we’d never be partners in any sense of the word and that letting sentiment get ahead of a proper job was something for civilians.” High Tide stared at her for a long minute before shrugging listlessly. “If _that_ isn’t backstabbin’, I’ll have to stoop to the level of findin’ a Decepticon example.”

“Look,” Quickshadow sighed. “I am _sorry_ that it hurt you, but this is—”

“Liar.”

She stopped up short, closing her mouth and then opening it again, her appeasing apology falling away. He was so upfront about this judgment that she found herself struggling for a response that would defend her from it. As she gazed up at him with wide optics, however, she realized that somewhere along the line he had stepped closer, just close enough that she could sense his EM field. She couldn’t read it very well, but she could accurately guess what he was feeling.

Neither of them stepped away. In fact, she felt herself softening, stepping closer. _Not again_ , an area of her processor warned, but that part was becoming smaller by the nanoklik.

“I’m not lying,” she retorted quietly. “But if given the chance, I would do it again. If given multiple chances, I would do it every time and never hesitate.”

“I know,” he growled softly. “That’s how I know you’re _not_ sorry for it.”

“But will you…forgive me for it?” she ventured, gingerly putting a hand on his arm. Warily he allowed it and her fingers slid further down, weaving lightly between his. “I never wanted to cause you any harm. I think I did lo…” Shuttering her optics briefly, she revised more carefully, “I did call you ‘love’, for a time, and I meant it. I’m sorry for every misunderstanding that followed and we both know _that’s_ the truth.”

High Tide sighed slowly, almost tiredly, and lifted his hand, studying her fingers between his. “Did you ever find another partner?” he repeated, his tone and meaning entirely changed.

“No. I’ve made sure no one else has had the opportunity to try,” the femme admitted, almost but not quite managing a smile through the rising sadness. High Tide hummed soberly, the rumble vibrating through his hold on her, sending a prickle through every nervecircuit in her back. The prickles became a chill as he bent down, lightly kissing her hand and then dropping it as he stepped back, leaving behind the smell of Earth's sea and his warmth on her fingers, hauntingly familiar.

“I never did either,” was all he said before giving her a vague salute and moving back toward the helm of his ship. “Be sure to get back safe, Blink.”

Quickshadow found herself unable to vent as she watched him go. Once he was out of sight, she released the held air in a single, sharp rush as her scattered thoughts collected into one: as a bot with no partner, she had never felt lonelier than she did now.

“Of course, love,” she whispered to the empty deck.

**Author's Note:**

> Man, I wasn't even expecting to ship this and the first fanfiction I write for it turns out sad D: Buuuut I guess the point is that I ship QuickTide and that I think sooner or later they may very well sort things out more happily. So...yay?


End file.
